Page 17 of Pure Temptation

“That’s great news,” she said. “Can I call you tonight, talk to both of you?”

“Of course.” Her mother sighed. “You don’t have to worry so much about us.”

“Old habits die hard, Mom. You know that.”

Her mother laughed. “I guess I do. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Kendall shoved her phone back into her pocket and wandered back over to Alana, who was currently inspecting a shell on the beach. Her friend looked up at her.

“Isn’t it the parents that are supposed to worry about their kids? How did you get it backward?”

“I’ve been practicing since I was a kid.” Kendall’s smile faded. “I don’t know how my mom survived all those years of forest fire seasons. She said it’s harder to be a hotshot’s wife than it is to be a hotshot.”

“Your dad must have been worth it.”

“She’d say so, but there were some hellish times, too.” When the tree limb that crushed his arm fell, her father had been knocked unconscious. For one terrible day, they hadn’t known if he would ever wake up. That day had almost broken her mother, and it was the last thing Kendall wanted to think about right now.

“Don’t most relationships have a few hellish times?” Alana gave her a pointed look.

“Maybe, but marrying a hotshot set her up for more than her share.”

But Alana waved off her comment. “Makes the fun times all the better. You don’t want to miss a single one of those.”

Kendall chuckled. “You’re bringing this back to Daxon, aren’t you? You think I should get naked with him.”

“I certainly do. As soon as possible.”

Daxon clung to the hangboard, mounted on the wall of the lanai, holding up the weight of his body with only his first three fingers. The timer beeped, so he shook out his hand, then started another set of pull-ups. Ten...then twenty. This was his last interval. Thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven...just a few more.

Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four... His hands were aching, and each pull-up was slower, but he couldn’t stop now. If he was going to make it up Moonlight Buttress, his shoulders, his arms, his hands, his fingers—everything needed to be in top shape. It was his fifth set of pull-ups today, and he was almost done. Three more. Two. One. He let go and his arms fell to his side as his feet found the ground. Daxon leaned back against the wall and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The warm breeze blew off the ocean as he flexed his hands, in and out, stretching out the soreness.

Done. Now it was time for his reward. The lanai formed a U shape, and inside the U, his private swimming pool was glassy-smooth and ocean blue. It wasn’t made for laps, just big enough and the right temperature for a quick dip, which would be followed by the oldest relaxation technique known to man.

Daxon set his phone on the side of the pool, stripped and dived in. He stayed under for a few strokes, the rush of the water cooling him off. He emerged for a breath and swam over to the side, where there was a ledge so he could sit chest-deep in the water. The sun shone down on him, reflecting everywhere. Beautiful, but it would be so much better if Kendall were here.

He imagined her swimming up to him. She’d sit next to him on the ledge, work her hands up his leg, much like she did in PT, with that crease between her eyebrows when she was concentrating. But instead of stopping mid-thigh, she’d keep moving higher. Then, just before her hands reached his cock, she’d look at him, her lips parted with just a hint of a smile.

“You want the deluxe treatment today?” she’d ask with a little laugh.

“Hell, yes,” he’d say.

And now he was hard. He’d need to climb out of the pool...soon. He wrapped his hand around his cock and squeezed.

Kendall’s words from the bedroom came back.Your turn now. Her voice had been husky with pleasure, pleasure he had given her. Daxon gritted his teeth and moved his hand up and down. Next she’d run her hand up his cock, exploring his length before she reached for the strings of her bikini. Then, slowly, she’d—

His phone dinged, jolting him out of his fantasies. He glanced at his phone, lying on the pool deck. Another ding. Who the hell was calling him? Kendall had his number, and that call would be worth answering. Daxon reached for his phone.

The Kalani concierge.

Daxon sighed and answered it.

“Mr. Miles, I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time,” said the woman. “You told me to call when I had an update about your requests.”

“Perfect timing,” he deadpanned.

“Great. Just wanted to let you know that I located the exact convertible model you requested in red. Would you like me to have it delivered to the Kalani tomorrow morning?”